


Entwined

by EnchanteRhea



Category: Yami No Matsuei
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 01:09:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnchanteRhea/pseuds/EnchanteRhea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chocolate, wine, and the holiday season – there is nothing more Watari needs to carry out his plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entwined

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2005 as a Christmas gift for JTriskell.

**Entwined**  
by Rhea  
  
  
“Here's to the holiday season.”  
  
Watari raised his glass with a smirk. “To days off, may they grow in number.”  
  
Tatsumi pursed his lips, choosing silence over vain arguments, for a change. Watari watched him, amused; he took extra pleasure in locking his gaze on Tatsumi's, a few moments longer each time their eyes met. Inwardly, he cheered at the notion that his partner was so easily driven to distraction by such simple tricks.  
  
“May I have my tie back?”  
  
Tatsumi tried for a stern tone, but the glint in his sapphire eyes rendered Watari completely unconcerned. He took time to run the tip of his tongue along the rim of the glass, treating the Shadow Master to a playfully challenging stare all the while.  
  
“I'll think about it,” he said, his voice low as he twirled the piece of garment in question around his wrist.  
  
The silk was soft against his skin and he leaned back just a little, slowly, to let his lab coat slide off his shoulders, down his bare arms. He caught Tatsumi's eyes straying from his face to sweep a quick glance over his body, now clad in skin-tight, black bodysuit and equally black pants whose belt had come loose a few minutes before.  
  
“Fine,” he said, impatient. “What's the price?”  
  
Chuckling, Watari put the glass down on Tatsumi's desk and slowly licked his upper lip. “Your business-like approach is really endearing,” he said. He grasped the broader end of the tie that hung from his wrist and brushed the edge lightly across Tatsumi's cheek, down his neck. “But you're not getting it back so easily.”  
  
“You do realize that if anyone walked in right now, more questions would ensue than either of us cares to answer?”  
  
“Of course.” Watari reached back and began to pull at his hair tie, lazily like that, and the first loose strands of his golden blond hair framed his slightly flushed face. He felt the wine circulate through him – it left him feeling hot. His cheeks burned, and the sight of Tatsumi before him did the rest.  
  
“Which is precisely why the door is locked,” he explained as he pulled the ribbon free at last and a fall of golden locks spilled around his arms. It tickled Tatsumi as Watari seated himself in his lap.  
  
He met his partner's dubious face with a smirk. Tatsumi's breathing picked up pace, a hardly perceptible change to an untrained ear. Yet he could hear it, and he felt the moist breath on his skin as he leaned in to tease Tatsumi's parted lips with a promise of a kiss.  
  
“Not that it can stop certain individuals who just happen to be in this building,” Tatsumi said with a move of his hand as if to wipe the nonexistent sweat from his forehead, but Watari caught it and pushed it behind the chair.  
  
“Come on.” Narrowing his eyes a little, he shrugged the tie off his hand. The silky fabric slid soundlessly and the soft sensation on the sensitive skin on the inside of his arm made him shiver again. “They have better things to do than looking for us, now, of all times. I made sure there's enough alcohol on the table and under it to keep them busy for a while.”  
  
Tatsumi's forehead creased in a frown. “You're not adding that to your expense report.”  
  
Typical Tatsumi. Watari grinned, but he kept his thoughts to himself. The Christmas party had not been his idea. Yet he jumped into it head-first, sensing a good opportunity to pin Seiichirou down in the sacred workplace and show him the entirety of his regard for the stiff rules he was supposed to uphold. Or lack thereof, had to be more like it. But now that he had happily downed a generous amount of wine, he had better things to think about.  
  
Tatsumi quirked one eyebrow. “My tie?”  
  
Watari smiled, squeezing the neck piece in his hand. He closed his eyes and focused until he felt it slip, on its own, out of his now-loose grasp. One amber eye cracked open and he almost giggled at Tatsumi's small, shocked gasp as the tie sneaked its way around his neck.  
  
“Your wish is my command,” he said, eyes cast down in a puny attempt at humility, but he had to bite down on his lips to suppress another grin. “Though I'm not sure your precious tie will answer your command, right now.”  
  
Tatsumi opened his mouth to speak, yet whatever words had tried to press onto his voice were gone when the tie slid slowly underneath his shirt. It brushed across his torso, at his already hardened nipples, the other silky end still around his neck.  
  
Watari reached to take his partner's glasses out of the way, then busied himself with the buttons of his vest. He disposed of it with hardly reluctant aid from Tatsumi - who sighed, as if resigned to go with whatever Watari had conjured up this time.  
  
“I think they're having fun,” he murmured in a low voice. The distant sound of laughter reached his ears as his fingers worked the buttons of Tatsumi's shirt. “We shouldn't stay behind.”  
  
“Perhaps we should rejoin them?”  
  
Watari pulled back and spared Tatsumi's bare chest a look of lustful appreciation. He let his hand wander up the toned flesh, ever so slowly, teasing his skin with his fingernails. “Later,” he whispered. “I've got a better plan.”  
  
Swallowing almost thickly, Tatsumi gave a small nod. “I hope it will result in my getting my clothes back, before you embarrass me in front of the entire office.”  
  
Watari let out a quiet snort. “Doomsayer,” he teased, and he felt like giggling at the sight of Tatsumi's face. “Well, you will get them back, eventually,” he said. “Or at least I think you will.”  
  
Meeting Watari's smirk with a scowl, Tatsumi jumped a little as the tie moved slowly across his lower back. “All right, all right. Let's hear it.”  
  
The Shadow Master's hair felt soft under his palms, his skin smooth, and Watari brushed his hand down his lover's face until his fingers stopped to hover just above his mouth. He ran his thumb across Tatsumi's lower lip, unhurriedly, and he watched those full lips part, inviting him to lean over and kiss them red.  
  
“Undress me,” he whispered against Tatsumi's lips.  
  
He touched one soft spot there with the tip of his tongue, and another; he kept enough distance to pull back easily until Tatsumi complied. He enjoyed it, he liked watching Tatsumi push past his barriers and the bonds of self-restraint – it freed him, one bit at a time. He was learning to throw them all away, and Watari lived every day with a little happier man.  
  
Tatsumi's hands halted in midair; perhaps he stopped to ponder removing the tie with a mind of its own that moved in lazy circles around his torso. Yet he did not touch, reaching instead to undo the zipper on Watari's back. Closer now, close enough for their bodies to meet and their heat to join into one, he planted the first kiss on Watari's neck, and another, and the bodysuit came off.  
  
Watari arched his back as Tatsumi's warm hands caressed him; in that warmth and the soft kisses, he felt lightheaded, all but ready to let himself go all the way. He straddled Tatsumi's lap and leaned back under those hands that roamed the planes of his skin – testing, still unsure, timid as if it were their first time there. He reached behind him, feeling around the desktop for the small box he had brought. He tried, not without effort, to keep himself steady as Tatsumi's ministrations continued to work his focus towards a shattering end.  
  
“Why do I have a feeling that... plan of yours, is going to keep us here for the rest of the evening?” Tatsumi's voice carried his smirk, and Watari's mouth twitched, his fingers grasping a tiny square from the box even as he murmured a soft affirmative under his breath.  
  
“Think about it,” he said, reposing himself more comfortably in Tatsumi's lap, in a half-lean against his revealed chest. “Nobody to snatch your chocolate.”  
  
He brought the small piece close to Tatsumi's lips and watched how his lover licked it, then withdrew his hand before Tatsumi could take a bite. Rewarded with an impatient noise, he touched Tatsumi's waiting mouth, time and again, until the chocolate began to melt. Only then he leaned in to lick the residue away, carefully, with slow precision until there was no taste left. His hands went around Tatsumi's neck and he pulled himself closer, slipping the rest of the chocolate into Tatsumi's mouth before he sank into his arms.  
  
“I want you on your desk,” he murmured in his ear. His tongue flickered at the earlobe and Tatsumi shivered.  
  
“It served a different purpose, last time I checked.”  
  
Fingers buried in Tatsumi's soft hair, Watari chuckled and gave his head a light shake. “I can assure you the purpose I have in mind is definitely different.”  
  
“I have no doubt about that.”  
  
It was hot in there, he mused as he rose to his feet. He looked at Tatsumi; with his hair disheveled and only his pants still on, he was a treat Watari could never resist. So he watched with hungry eyes how those pants came off and he stepped closer, letting his partner take care of his own pair. He nuzzled Tatsumi's neck, and his hand came to rest upon his chest; a light pressure to urge Tatsumi to lie down on the desk. He swept the papers away and sipped down the remaining wine before he removed his glass as well, lest it break. A good drink such as that should not go to waste.  
  
Electrified by the sight of Tatsumi's naked body sprawled on the desk, Watari took his sweet time brushing gentle hands over every hollow, each curve – feather-like touch, barely there at first, and he shivered at the heat born between their burning skin. Shadow and light, his own pale fingers against Tatsumi's darker flesh; ghosting over his strong thighs, brushing upwards to squeeze his butt cheeks a number of times.  
  
His own impatience grew; it raged throughout him in searing waves, and so it did with his lover – Tatsumi's muscles trembled slightly at each touch. Watari leaned over him and let his long hair tickle Seiichirou's sides, eliciting restless movement that urged him to let their game speed up.  
  
Slowly, grazing blunt fingernails on his skin, Watari slipped his hand underneath his lover; Tatsumi's cock was a straining hardness in his grasp, and the man moaned low in his throat.  
  
“Do it,” he whispered, clenching his fists.  
  
Watari's hand stopped and he lowered himself onto Tatsumi – skin on skin, breath to breath as he brought his face close enough to touch. “Make me.”  
  
Pulling himself up on one hand, Tatsumi cupped the back of Watari's head with the other and soon their lips met in a crushing kiss, their tongues dancing in the heat of their pliant mouth. Tatsumi's breath hitched as Watari reached for his cock again and began pumping him; his lips marked their way onto Tatsumi's neck with rough kisses and nibbling at the sensitized skin.  
  
Faster, faster now, he worked that man into a frenzy of rapid breath and watched Seiichirou's eyes squeeze shut – he grasped a fistful of Watari's hair, hips thrusting against the rhythmic pumping of his hand. A barely restrained cry, released only as a moan that slipped past his lips. He came undone, all but collapsing onto the hard desk but Yutaka caught him, and held him through the final tremors against his chest.  
  
He caught the echoes of the sounds of his lover's climax with a kiss, smiling at the heat of Tatsumi's pleasure that spilled over his hand. With one arm draped across his torso and the quick yet steady heartbeat at his fingertips, Watari let out a quiet, satisfied sigh.  
  
“Shh,” he purred in the Shadow Master's ear, caressing the back of his neck, swollen lips ghosting over Tatsumi's cheek. “You didn't want anyone to hear.”  
  
Tatsumi only groaned before his breathing slowed down and he opened his eyes, sky blue meeting amber and it shone, aflame with desire and something like love that neither of them had ever named.  
  
“Let's not take too long, then,” he breathed at last. He pulled at the tie that had wrapped itself around one of his wrists and had attached the other end to something out of his sight. “Before they notice our absence.”  
  
Watari grinned, flickering his tongue across the back of his semen-stained hand. “They should be on their fifth bottle by now,” he said.  
  
Eyes narrowed, Tatsumi reached for the drawer, discovering at the same time where his own tie had found a spot to fix itself. “Dare I ask how many more they have left?”  
  
“Enough,” Watari whispered behind his ear. He leaned over and took the bottle of lubricant from Tatsumi's hand.  
  
His cheeks were flushed, and the strands of dark hair hung haphazardly over his eyes, damp with sweat; tousled and so deliciously wild. Watari licked his lips as he spread a generous amount of lube over his painfully hard cock and rubbed more between his hands. Tatsumi shifted his weight on the desk, and Watari guided him with a slick hand into a position that suited them both best.  
  
He reached for the chocolate box and produced one dark square; half a bite for himself, the other half slipped into Seiichirou's mouth. And as he lay on top of him, stealing a chocolate-sweet kiss, his fingers wandered, inch by slowly covered inch across his skin, towards Tatsumi's opening.  
  
A gasp welcomed the first finger, and Watari nuzzled his lover's neck, trailing wet kisses down his arching back. He reached for another chocolate as he traced tiny circles on the Shadow Master's left shoulder blade with the tip of his tongue, and the filling made a sweet addition to the taste of his lover's skin. As Watari brushed one hand against his cheek, Tatsumi caught his thumb between his teeth, licking off the sweet smear - and he bit down on it as the second finger of Watari's other hand began to stretch him again.  
  
Tatsumi shifted restlessly; he pulled at the tie that held him and reached for it with his free hand. It slid soundlessly around his other wrist and bound his hands together. Watari bit his lower lip, suppressing a chuckle at Tatsumi's attempts – that powerful man, defeated and gradually beginning to writhe with growing anticipation, was powerless against the flood of sensations as Watari slid into him.  
  
Bending, Yutaka pressed a kiss to his lover's back. He shivered; not from the cold, but from the heat that scorched him within. It concentrated in his cock as Tatsumi's strong muscles clasped around him – inviting, so well-known by now, yet somehow new every time. He threw back his head, and Seiichirou's gasp enticed him; his world narrowed down to contain only the sound of blood that rushed through his ears, his own pounding heart, the unison of their erratic breathing and the overwhelming warmth.  
  
Seiichirou pushed back against his thrusts, and Yutaka lost himself in him as they caught on the rhythm, his breath a rattle of ever the more frantic bursts. He heard his name on Seiichirou's lips, panted amidst pleasure, and his voice echoed with his lover's name. In his scattered thoughts, it was one word with a hundred and one meanings, and all of them mattered - only until the second he felt the last powerful thrust push him over the edge. Shuddering, he bit his lips to muffle the sound, hands grasping Seiichirou's hips hips and he held onto him for dear life as the ripples of his climax washed over him.  
  
Gasping for breath, he collapsed on top of Tatsumi, brushing strands of damp hair away from his face with a slightly trembling hand. He felt heavy, and somehow light all the same; sated and warm.  
  
He planted a kiss between Seiichirou's shoulder blades, smiling against the heat of his sweaty skin.  
  
“Next year,” he whispered lazily, his words slurred together, “break room. Lots of tables. You get to pick.”  
  
Tatsumi turned his head. “Break room?” he asked with a hint of a suspicious undertone.  
  
“Mmhm. It's next on my list.”  
  
  
December 30, 2005


End file.
